12 January 2009

It's definitely NOT THERE

Last night I tucked Gabriel into his bed, and sat on the couch knitting until he fell asleep. I then proceeded to do a couple chores; clean up the kitchen, fold some laundry, feed the fish.

This morning, I was making our lunches while Gabriel was still asleep. As I was putting something in the sink, I happened to glance at the fish bowl. Empty. I look on the counter. Empty. I look in the sink. Empty. I spread the little plastic drain guard thingy and peer into the garbage disposal. Empty. Barefoot and bleary, I am thusly terrified of finding the missing fish with my foot. I mount a frantic search of my kitchen area, which happens to be freshly tidied and swept. I am confounded. There is nothing.

So we left the house.

Will Gabriel find the fish? Where is the fish? I find myself unable to concentrate, obsessed with a (presumably) dead fish.

Missing fish


  1. What the heck? Do fish just disappear? He's testing you.

  2. So where was the fish? Surely you found it by now? Didn't you get a beta? Those things will jump out and commit suicide - it is a personality trait of them. Something about the alpha attitude they have and they think there is something else better out there one of the pet store people explained one time. I'm telling you, I know very little about most things but for some reason the stupid betta fish holds a lot of fact space in my tiny, tired brain. Why? Hell if I know.